iCarly: iLearn A Love Song
by Nitebreaker
Summary: Continuing a most unusual pairing. Has Carly found the perfect boyfriend? Of course, there's something about him she doesn't know...something that could easily come between them. Can Griffin keep worlds from colliding, or is it inevitable? Can even he stop such a thing from happening? Sequel to iFall for an Earth Girl. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

_iCarly: iLearn A Love Song_

Chapter 1: The Darkness

… _._

 _I don't own iCarly. Nor do I own Gryphon. And he doesn't own me. We're partners._

… _.._

 _My report continues. Time passes. Carly and I become closer. I sense that this displeases Sam somewhat, partly due to jealousy regarding what she sees as me intruding upon her relationship with Carly. I am not, of course trying to do any such thing, but human emotions are funny things. Sam is bright enough to realize this, however. But she still distrusts me because of my earlier "bad boy" acting. Well, I couldn't know this would happen._

 _It's hard to explain our peculiar relationship with time. We don't have to exist in just one point in time, nor in one particular spot in space. But some things we still miss. We're not omniscient._

 _Perhaps it would be more accurate to say I didn't know this would happen._

 _Then comes the day I've dreaded. Aunt Maggie comes to me. "Angel Gryphon, you've been chosen to Speak against one who is deserving."_

 _I'm speechless. "Isn't there some other way? I, I don't want to do this thing."_

" _You know there's not. I even offered to Speak in your stead. The answer was no. It must be you."_

 _My shoulders sag. My worst nightmare…well, one of them. My truly worst is Carly finding out what I really am. "Very well," I say, "I am, and remain, obedient. I will Stand now." And I stand up._

 _As I said, words don't really convey our special relationship with time and space. Even as I stand there in the apartment, I also Stand beside the first humans, in the Great Snows of yesteryear, as they fight to stay alive. I wish I could help them._

 _I'm there when the pyramids are being built. I see the construction of the Sphinx, and know its true secret, one humans will not discover for another hundred years. And I'm there when they do._

 _I Stand before the battle of Waterloo, as the general known as Napoleon suffers defeat. I am there at Appomattox when General Lee hands General Grant his sword. I Stand at the atomic bombing of the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, in Japan. I am there at the Fall of Rome. I witness the annihilation of Herculaneum and Pompeii by the volcano Vesuvius. ._

 _I Stand before Columbus as he arrives at what will come to be called the "New World." I see the mighty works of the Aztecs, the Toltecs, the Mayans, and those who came before them, and I witness their dark human sacrifice. I am there on the first human galaxy-class starship, out beyond the star humans call Rigel, when the crew encounters the Bakori. I know the loss of life, the heartache that will result from this meeting, as the Terrans attempt peaceful contact with that warlike race, but I can say nothing._

 _For the briefest moment in time, I Stand before all of humanity, every single human being who has ever lived, or ever will._

 _None of them see me._

 _And I am there in London's East End, in 1891. It is dark, and there is no one about. Good. It would be dangerous for anyone to witness what is to come._

 _I see the figure, cloaked, shrouded in darkness, whose lines of potential are completely dark, so dark. It is normal for a human, even one consumed by the darkness, to have some lines that radiate upward; this figure does not. There is something in his hand._

 _He_ _sees me._

 _I raise my hand, fingers held together, and pointed slightly towards him. And I Speak._

 _The lines of potential surrounding him explode in a geyser of fire, the blast smashing windows, and damaging the silent brick buildings nearby. The probability wave effect transforms the nearby streetlamps into crystal, and shatters them into thousands of shards. I'm careful enough, but when that much potential is released all at once, the effect is hard to contain._

 _As soon as I can, I return to the apartment in Seattle._

" _Well?" says Aunt Maggie._

 _I sag slightly in relief. It's good to be back. "It's done. There will be no more killings, not from that one."_

 _She comes up to me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "I know it was not easy for you."_

" _No, it was not. He was once a great doctor, and did much good. Aunt Maggie, how can the darkness so consume a man?"_

 _She shrugs, sadly, I think. I hate that. I love my Aunt, and would never do or say anything to hurt her or cause her pain. "That, no one knows. Light outshines the darkness, but sometimes, for reasons we cannot know, men_ _help_ _the darkness. When that happens, after a while, the light…turns away. There is no longer any hope for that person. Now. Are you sure you were unobserved? Remember, we must maintain our cover."_

 _I nod. "I am sure."_

 _But within me, something nagged at me. A voice spoke up, warning me that I might have been a bit hasty in saying that…_

Carly was asleep at home when the dream came to her. Griffin, somehow transported to Old London, holding out his hand against the dark, menacing figure, as though to stop it. Then…Words she couldn't hear, somehow, and the explosion, as if a bomb had gone off. The dark figure, destroyed so completely that there was not even a body. She woke up, gasping. What was _that_ all about?

She dithered. She worried…what had this dream meant? Carly had never been one to believe that dreams carried some psychic significance, or metaphysical message or something, but this one bothered her. It had been so _intense._ Somehow she felt Griffin was in danger. Nothing would do but that she had to call him; she was now too wound up to sleep. "Griffin? Is…are you…I mean, uh, h-hello. How's it going?"

" _It's going fine, Carly. Are you alright? You sound a bit…upset."_

"Oh, it's nothing. I just had a, well," and here she laughed at herself. Here she was, calling her boyfriend in the middle of the night, because she'd had a bad dream! "I just had a, I guess you'd say, a nightmare. Couldn't sleep. I didn't wake you, did I?"

" _Oh, no. I'm a bit of a nightowl, you know, anyway. I was up. But I'm sorry to hear you had a bad dream. Is there anything I can do to help?"_

"Just you answering the phone's a big help, Grif. The…the dream was sorta about you."

There was a brief pause. _"It was?"_

"Yeah. I dreamed you were in, like, Old London or somewhere, and there was this frightening creature in front of you. Then, it was like a bomb went off. That's when I woke up." She smiled a weak smile. "I know it's silly, but I had to make sure you were alright."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. For just a moment, she thought he wasn't going to say anything more. But then, _"Well, I can certainly see why that would upset you. If it were me, and I dreamed you were in danger, I'd definitely be distraught. What's the expression? 'Fit to be tied?'"_

Carly hesitated. Why would he be asking about a common phrase like that? "Uh, yeah. So, I mean, I just…you know."

" _I know. You're not alone, are you?"_

"Well, yeah. Spencer's out with T-bo, doing something, I'm not sure what. He said not to wait up. But, but it's okay, I'm okay…"

" _Would you like me to come over? We could talk."_

"I…I think I'd like that, Grif. Uh, yeah. You…you don't mind? I mean, I'm alright, just a bit, a little bit shaken up, I guess…that dream caught me offguard, there was just something, I dunno, _scary_ about it, unusually so, I mean, but, but, I guess nightmares are like that…"

" _It's no trouble at all, Carly. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."_

"Fifteen minutes! You can't get here that quickly, you live across town!" _Besides, I'd barely have enough time to get dressed and put on any makeup._

" _Sure I can. I know a shortcut. And don't worry about your makeup; I'm not coming over to see your makeup. I'm coming over to see you."_ And he hung up.

Carly hurriedly pulled on a blouse and jeans, and splashed her basic face on as fast as she could. One thing she'd learned about Griffin was, he was _punctual_.

Much, much later on, it would occur to her that she hadn't actually said anything about makeup, in their phone conversation. But of course, there was a logical explanation for that. There had to be.

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. She hurried downstairs to let Grif in. As their relationship had progressed, she'd learned something pretty amazing about him, something unlike all the other guys she'd gone out with: he respected her as a person. Not once had he ever made a pass at her, or treated her, and her feelings, with anything other than the most gentle, almost tender, respect.

And to think, she'd almost passed him up as a bad potato.

She threw her arms around him even before he got in the room. "Whoa, Carly! You were _this_ upset? That must've been some dream!"

She led him over to the couch. "Yeah." Now she felt herself getting the sniffles. _Allergies, of course. It's that time of year._ "I…I mean, it seemed like you were in danger, a-and that _thing_ in front of you was…so dark. So _scary._ Like I guess a real-life Freddy Kruger or Jason Voorhees would be, you know, if they weren't just…fictional." She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

He sat down beside her. "And you say _I_ was in it?"

"Yeah, that's what woke me up! That thing in front of you, you holding your hand up, like you were saying, 'stop,' or something, and, and…" Her hands fluttered in exasperation. _I must seem like such a twit, calling him over here this late, just because I had a bad dream._

But he was nodding in an understanding sort of way. "I know, sometimes dreams…can seem pretty real. Especially scary ones. I guess I've never had a _really_ bad nightmare."

"Well…thanks for coming to my rescue." She placed a hand shyly, on his knee.

"Rescue? I really didn't do anything, but you're very welcome." She yawned, her hand automatically going up to cover her mouth. "Look," he said, "You're exhausted. Tell you what. Why don't you go on upstairs to bed. I'll stay down here on the couch, at least until Spencer gets back. How's that sound?"

She blushed. Other guys would've suggested another sleeping arrangement. One that involved a lot less actual sleep. Did he _have_ to be so _perfect_? "Ah, it, it actually sounds kinda nice. You…you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't be much knight in shining armor if I didn't follow through, you know. So, yeah. Just go on upstairs. I'll catch some zeee's here."

"Thanks, Grif." Impulsively, she kissed him, throwing her arms around him. He responded after a moment, as though he were truly surprised by her action.

On the way upstairs, she cast a look back at him, getting comfortable on the couch. Part of her actually _wanted_ to invite him upstairs, but of course that just wasn't her. Perhaps someday… But as she glanced at him, in the space of an eyeblink, almost the twinkling of an eye, she saw him standing there, looking up at her, attired in a suit of golden armor that shone like the noonday sun. So real was the illusion, that she did a double take…

But it was only a trick her mind was playing on her. Another look showed her nothing unusual about him. _Except the man I'm coming to love._

Still, that vision had been a powerful one, and she thought about it for a long time before sleep overtook her.

 _To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2: The Light

iCarly: iLearn A Love Song

…

 _I don't own iCarly. If I did, it would have ended very differently, if at all. Yes, very differently, indeed._

… _._

 _Again, what might have been._

…

Chapter 2: The Light

…..

They went to the Comic-Con the next day. "I still say we should'a come in costume," grumbled Sam.

"Way too much trouble, Sam. Besides, costumes _cost_. Any anyway, who would you have come as?"

"Princess Peach."

They all turned to look at her. Even Griffin looked a little startled. "What? What's wrong with Princess Peach?"

"Sorry, Sam," Carly had to hide her smile behind her hand, "It's just…I'm having a hard time visualizing you as Princess Peach!"

"Yeah? Well, who would you come as, Carls?"

"Hm." The five of them, Carly, Sam, Freddy, Spencer, and Griffin, were just then making it to the front gate: registration. "Good question. I'd have to think about that one for a bit. Say," she turned to Griffin, "Grif, who would you come as?"

"I really have no idea. This is all pretty new to me. You mean like from TV, movies, things like that?"

"Yeah," said Spencer, getting caught up in the idea. "I wonder who I'd come as?" He pondered the matter while they registered.

" _I_ know who you could be!" Carly said to Griffin. "You could be the Fonz!"

"Who?"

"You know, the Fonz! From the old 'Happy Days' TV show. You already have the jacket…all you'd have to do is slick back your hair, and do the walk." And she attempted to demonstrate, an exaggerated strut, snapping her fingers. "'Aaaay….I'm _cool,_ man. So _cool._ '"

He laughed. "I must've missed that series. When was it on, anyway?"

"Ah, it was years ago. I may have some DVDs…I'll have to look." They registered and got their nametags.

 _I look around at all the cosplayers, as they're called, in amazement. So many different costumes! So many lines of probability, lines of potential…I see them celebrate being who they are not, for just a little while. Perhaps they are dressed as someone they admire, or someone who makes them laugh, or simply someone they've seen on television or in a video game. It doesn't matter. What matters is, they are celebrating having_ _fun_ _. Is there a better celebration than that?_

Carly clutched Grif's arm. "Oh, look! Over there!" She pointed to a cluster of people in deep cosplay mode: several of them wore lab coats, with curiously visible stitches stitched across them, and large, fake bolts affixed to the sides of their heads. They were surrounded by other cosplayers dressed as characters Grif could only assume were from the same source: a schoolgirl uniform type, but with an extremely short plaid skirt. These usually carried large paper mache scythes. Others were dressed in black, with absolutely symmetrical designs, but with white lines running halfway around their heads, always ending in the middle of the forehead. These particular cosplayers were always accompanied by two young women, both of whom wore western-style hats, shorts, and halter tops, baring a substantial portion of their midriffs.

Carly smiled up at him, tugging on his arm. "Keep your eyes in your head, Grif. Don't make me jealous here." Jealous? What did she mean? A quick look within… _oh._ Yes, he was supposed to be mildly aroused by this display of female flesh. But what to say?

It came to him. "You've nothing to worry about, Carly. Like the old song said, I only have eyes for you." She blushed and turned away.

" _I_ know who I'd be!" Freddy turned to the group. "Sam wants to be Princess Peach? Okay. I'd be Mario."

" _You?_ As _Mario?_ " Sam burst out laughing, sputtering. "So I guess you'd always be riding to my rescue, huh?" She laughed some more. Clearly, the idea of _Freddy_ rescuing _her_ struck her as hilarious.

"Hey, either that, or I get to watch you fall off a cliff. Win-win." She sputtered further. Then her eyes widened. "The food court! C'mon, Fredward, you're buying!" And she dragged Freddy off towards the source of the delicious scents wafting over…

 _ **{{Angel Gryphon! Warning! There is active darkness in your immediate vicinity!}}**_ Grif had to use all his iron self-control to keep from reacting to his Aunt Maggie's message. Active darkness? That meant active danger…to the mortals involved.

He'd learned, a long time ago, to adopt cell phone useage as a cover for the mind-to-mind communications angels normally used. So when he first got his Aunt's message, he'd pulled out his cell phone and held the inactive device to his ear. So even now he was engaged in a faked phone conversation. "Yes, Aunt Maggie. No I haven't. Do I…? Okay, I'll wait. Just let me know."

And those mortals were involved largely, most probably, due to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was often the way these things went.

But this time, _these_ mortals included his new friends…and the girl he was coming to love. That made the matter personal.

 _ **{{Take no chances, Gryphon! I don't yet know the nature of this darkness, but it is very real.}}**_

 _ **{{I must help my friends.}}**_

 _ **{{You also must not give away our secret! Be careful!}}**_

"Grif? What was that all about?" asked Carly.

"I'm not sure. It might be best if we joined the others at the food court." He smiled. "My treat."

She rolled her eyes, even as she hooked her arm though his, and let him steer her towards the food courts. "It's _always_ your treat. You're spoiling me, you know."

"That just means my evil plan is succeeding beyond my wildest expectations! Mwah-ha-ha!" And threw back his head and rubbed his hands together with apparent evil glee.

She laughed. In all his life as an angel, a being from a very _different_ reality, Gryphon had heard a great many sounds. But Carly's laughter was far and away his favorite sound in all the world of mortals.

He wondered, absently, if the time would ever come when she'd find out who and what he was. That…would be the end of them. He would never again get to hear her laugh.

They caught up with Sam, Freddy, and Spencer. Sam was trying to balance three slices of pizza and two drinks, simultaneously. Freddy had a small plate with several canapes, rolls of sushi, and a mound of other, less easily identifiable forms of food, as well as holding yet another drink. Gryphon had to laugh when he noticed that Freddy was not actually partaking of any of this food; it must be Sam's, that she'd given him to hold while she chowed down on what she could. Why didn't these two just admit their feelings for each other? But then he realized, things were seldom as simple as that. After all, here he was, an immortal being in love with a mortal girl…could he tell her that? Or would she be better off if he called off their relationship, breaking both their hearts?

He was deathly afraid he already knew the answer to that question.

Spencer was chatting up some of the people from the cosplay floor, several attired in spandex outfits that seemed rather tight. Gryphon wondered if they were uncomfortable or not. Now. How to get his friends out of here?

That thought, all by itself, surprised him somewhat. What of the other humans? Their lives mattered, too, didn't they? Yet, he was honest enough with himself to admit that, to him, the lives of his friends just plain mattered _more._

"Well, we've seen the place. Where do we go from here?" he asked.

"Huh?" Sam asked between bites. "We just got here, Grif. Whaddaya mean, 'go'?"

"Oh…just…there's the main room over there, and here, this food court. What else is here? What's down that way, for example?"

She looked down in the direction he was pointing. "The parking lot. You wanna go check out a _parking lot_?"

This wasn't going well. How could he convince them to go, without letting slip any secrets? "Well, no. I just wondered, is all."

"Well, don't worry," said Carly, coming back to his side and taking his arm. "We could spend the rest of the day just circulating here, between the main ballroom and the courts."

 _If you_ _had_ _the rest of the day._ Okay. There seemed to be only one course of action. He had to find the source of darkness and somehow neutralize it. But he didn't even know what it could be. _**{{Aunt Maggie! Where, exactly, is this darkness?}}**_

 _ **{{Gryphon, get out of there! Take your friends and go! The sense I'm reading is that it's getting stronger!}}**_

 _ **{{I can't realistically persuade them to go, I don't know how. Where is this darkness?}}**_

 _ **{{Gryphon, you don't want to try anything stupid. Whatever it is could end up revealing your secret identity in some way. You can't risk that!}}**_

 _ **{{Maybe I won't have to. Just tell me where it is, and maybe I can guide them away from there. From what you are describing, it sounds almost like a bomb.}}**_

 _ **{{That's the sense I'm getting exactly. Which is all the more reason for you to go. A bomb goes off, your friends are killed, and there's not a mark on you? The humans would find that highly suspicious.}}**_

 _ **{{Please, Aunt Maggie! Just tell me! Your senses are much sharper than mine!}}**_

 _ **{{Oh, very well. I see you're going to insist…I really have to meet this 'Carly' person sometime. She appears to be able to get you to go through all kinds of inadvisable behavior… It's down the main hallway…}}**_ And, in his mind, he saw a map of the Convention Center, with a small red blip in one corner, by a column. "Uh, guys? Let's go down here."

"You three go. I'm busy," said Sam, even as she refilled her hands with food from her personal mobile attendant, who gave them a resigned look, and shrugged.

Spencer was still busy talking to the three costumed people. "You two go on. I wanna talk to these guys a little while."

"What's with this sudden desire to explore the convention, Grif?" Carly asked, as she followed him downstairs to the ground floor.

"Oh, just…you know. I've never been to one of these before. Look at all these costumes! They must've spent a long time and effort to make these."

"Oh, they did, some of 'em. And some of 'em are professional cosplayers…they get paid to dress up. Man," her face took on a dreamy expression. "Imagine that. It'd be like being paid to celebrate Halloween."

"Uh huh." His gaze tracked over the room, striving to see past the hordes of costumed players.

Over by one wall was a small briefcase. "Carly, look at that."

"What, that briefcase? What about it?"

"Do you see anyone around it?"

"Uhhh, no. Why are you asking?"

"Remember those warnings they told us about in that special class last month? Things to watch for? Like abandoned briefcases in public places?"

She turned to him, eyes wide. "Grif, you are saying….?"

"I'm getting a bad feeling about that briefcase, Carly." And he moved over to it. It was right where Aunt Maggie's mental map had showed him….

She clutched at his sleeve. "Grif, if it's… _that_ , we need to get out of here, and warn the others!"

 _I see the briefcase with a Sight that goes beyond sight. It's not the "X-ray vision" of comic books, but a kind of sight that can see through time and space as well as matter and energy._ "It's a dirty bomb," he muttered, moving closer. He heard her sharp intake of breath. A dirty bomb: an ordinary explosive with radioactive material wrapped around it. The explosion would disperse the radioactive fallout over a wide area. "How-how do you know?"

He turned to her. "Never mind. You've got to activate some alarm, tell someone. They need to evacuate this facility, bring in a bomb squad."

She pulled at his sleeve. "Well, come _on_ then!"

But he seemed almost in a trance. "I…maybe I can do something…"

"Do something? Grif _fin!_ Come _on!_ "

 _My options are limited. If I Speak against this device, everyone around will see. And just seeing that process in action can have disastrous side effects on any onlookers. If I disarm it—which I could probably do, most Earth mechanisms are surprisingly primitive—it would definitely give away at least a portion of my secret. An ordinary teenager really shouldn't be able to disarm a terrorist's bomb._

 _That leaves me with only one option. With Carly looking on, still tugging on my sleeve, trying to pull me away, I pass my hand over the briefcase. Just a quick pass, but it is all the gesture I need to make._

 _Within, the digital timing mechanism clicks over. Two minutes left. But then, by means human scientists will never understand, the passage of time within the device slows to a crawl. Two minutes becomes an eon._

"Okay, let's go!" said Grif. "Where's the nearest security post?"

….

Within the span of thirty minutes, the area had been evacuated and the entire area cordoned off. Bomb experts had been called in. When the type of bomb had been identified, the cordoned-off area was increased to a radius of three miles. After all, the thing could still go off.

But after a long, long time, the bomb was finally loaded into one of the reinforced vans, and carried off into the night.

"Well," observed Sam, still nibbling on a bite of food she'd been able to scavenge from the con, "This has been a helluva night."

Carly was looking at Grif. "Grif? You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, Carly. I'm fine. Er, why do you ask?"

She stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. "It's just…you went right to that briefcase."

Oh. "Oh, yeah. Uhm, about that." _This is going to hurt._ "I have a confession to make. I, er, noticed that it was a very nice briefcase, and, uh, for just a brief moment, was tempted to steal it." Even as he spoke, the spasm of, not exactly _pain_ , but certainly a feeling of considerable _discomfort_ went through his whole being. "Old habits. I'm…I'm not proud of that."

Still she stared. "But…you knew it was a bomb. You said so. Even said what type it was."

 _Not_ good. "Well….deduction, really." Even as he spoke, another spasm went through him. "I figured, why would anybody leave a briefcase like that in the middle of a crowded convention? Just…deduction."

"But you even knew what _kind_ of bomb. A 'dirty' bomb, you said."

"Er, I meant, you know, dirty as in 'dirty rotten scoundrel.'" He turned to her and smile what she could have sworn was a pained smile. "I mean, come on. How could I have known it was a _radioactive_ type dirty bomb?"

"I….guess there's no way…" But her eyes never left him. He looked away.

 _He's not telling me the truth. But why? And how_ _did_ _he know? How_ _could_ _he have known?_ These and more questions ran around in her head, coming up with nothing.

Back at Carly's and Spencer's apartment, Sam settled in front of the TV with a plate full of ham sandwiches. Nobody was fooled; they were all for her. Freddy shook his head. _How does she fit all that in her stomach, and not gain an ounce?_ He got her an orange soda from out of the fridge, carried it over to her, just as she was flipping the TV on. "Hey, Fredward, get me an o-* Oh! Yeah, uh, thanks." As he handed her the drink. By now, the two knew each other so well it was a choreographed dance.

Carly noticed Grif standing by the door, hands in his pockets, jangling keys, his eyes flickering nervously all over the apartment. "Grif, what's wrong? Come on, let's watch some TV. The big excitement's over." Spencer had gone upstairs, in the grip of some new artistic impulse. Carly worried a bit about that; Spencer's "artistic impulses" often resulted in disaster, usually of a messy nature.

"I, uhm. I can't, Carly. Aunt Maggie's expecting me back. And by now, I'm sure she's seen the news reports. She's probably worried. I'd, I'd best go."

"Okay, yeah, I can totally see that. She's bound to be concerned. Well, okay. Call me later, will you?" And she came up to him and kissed him.

He returned the kiss warmly, then grasped her by the arms and kissed her again, this time more deeply than before. Her eyes widened as he drew back and looked at her. She'd never seen him look at her quite like that before…..or felt him kiss quite like that, either.

"I'll be back," he said, looking into the center of her being. Then he was gone.

 _I need no human means of transportation to go from one place to another. And I need no human sensors to determine my destination, either._

 _In a shabby part of town…there, in a small, disused coffee shop, now closed for the night…in the back room…._

 _I slam the door aside, to reveal a room full of rather scroungy looking men still watching the nightly news intently. Even were I not gifted with Sight, their guilt would be clearly evident in their faces. They jump up upon seeing me, and several open fire with some small pistols they carried upon their person._

 _Such things cannot harm me. I have flown through the hearts of stars; no power on Earth can harm me. I gesture._

 _They are flung back against the wall, pinned there by my will. I raise my hand, preparing to Speak…_

 _ **{{Gryphon?}}**_ _Aunt Maggie joins me, looking over my shoulder._ _ **{{What are you doing?}}**_ _She is asking a serious question._

 _I start to tell her I am exacting justice upon some mortals who deserve it. I start to say I am making the world a better place for good people. I start to say I am only doing what the human law enforcement officials would do, only more permanently…._

 _And I find I cannot._

 _I start to tell her about the harm they very nearly caused, the deaths, the lingering suffering due to radiation poisoning. I cannot say that either._

 _ **{{I…I am about to exact vengeance upon those who would have harmed the one I love. The ones I love.}}**_ _Images of not just Carly, but snarky Sam, quiet Freddy, and enthusiastic Spencer flood through my mind._

 _But mostly of Carly. Of the way she looks when she laughs, of the way her expression narrows when she's concentrating upon something, the expression of joy when her webcam show does well, or when she finds something she's been shopping for, for a good price, or when she's having fun, somewhere, with me…_

 _With me._

 _And the expression of joy on her face when she sees me._

 _ **{{Gryphon, look. Look at yourself.}}**_ _And I look. I see the lines of potential emanating from me, radiating upward into Light…._

… _.and I see one golden tendril that curves downward, into darkness._

 _Is it worth it?—I ask myself. And part of me says, yes! Yes! It is!_

 _But another part says no._

 _ **{{What…what should I do? Aunt Maggie?}}**_

 _I can feel her hand upon my shoulder. Whatever my decision, I know she will support me on it. She will agree with me._

 _I look around at the terrorists, locked against the walls, themselves terrified of what is happening, something beyond their experience. I wish I could grant them Insight, that they could see the harm, the pain, they could have caused. But I cannot, because that requires Orders from On High._

 _But I can grant them no sight._

 _I release them, and they immediately cry out as the blindness overcomes them, their hands going to their eyes. But there is nothing wrong with their physical eyes._

Carly was cleaning up, preparing to go upstairs and to bed, when the doorbell rang. Somehow she knew it was _him._ She ran to the door.

Griffin stood leaning against the doorjamb, seeming to look a little exhausted, in a strange sort of way. "Carly? I'm sorry I ran out on you earlier."

"Oh, my God, Grif!" She led him inside and set him down on the couch. "What happened to you?"

"I…I had to blow off some steam, I guess you'd say. The…thought of what could have happened back there, at the convention center. What could have happened to you, and the others. I had to go…do something. I'm sorry I ran out." _I hope that's enough explanation._ "And…just now. I had to make sure you were alright. I don't really understand all that myself, not really."

She sat down beside him on the couch, and drew him onto her shoulder. Spencer was upstairs, either in bed or in the throes of artistic ecstasy. Either way, they had the downstairs all to themselves. "Grif, it's alright." She looked at him as he lay against her. Why, oh why did she get the unmistakable impression that he'd fought some sort of war this night? But he didn't look like he'd gotten into a fight… "I…I think you've been through a battle. A battle of your own. Am I wrong?"

He smiled tiredly. "No. You aren't."

She pulled him closer. "And knowing you like I do, I get the impression it was a battle to help someone else. To defend someone else. Someone you….care deeply about."

"It….was."

"And you won."

He didn't say anything for a long time. Then, "I also fought a battle with myself. And that battle I lost."

She kissed the top of his head. "But you're here, and you're alive and safe. Right now, that's all that matters. You're here. With me." She cradled his head against her shoulder. "Sleep, Grif. Just sleep. Everything's alright now. Just sleep." _And I do._

 _But just as human sleep claims me, my last thought is: I am here in a human domicile. There are humans all about. Without a doubt, I will awaken to the sound of human voices._

 _And when those human voices wake me, will I drown?_

 _The End_


End file.
